Mean Boys
by AlwaysPadfoot
Summary: A Marauders prank causes chaos in the Great Hall. McGonagall and Slughorn attempt to calm things down.


**AN:** Prompts will be displayed at the bottom to avoid them potentially giving away things.

* * *

 **Mean Boys**

 **AlwaysPadfoot**

* * *

 _The Great Hall was in chaos._

 _It was not unlike when father decided we should behead a House Elf, or when all the Black family gathered for Christmas. There was shouting, and fighting, and honestly I wouldn't be surprised if blood was drawn._

"Merlin, Padfoot." James had to speak loud over the noise; his mouth right up against Sirius' ear. "This got a little out of hand."

The Slytherin fifth years started yelling first, bleating occasionally, as curling ram's horns grew from their heads. Bubbles cascaded down from the ceiling, bouncing away in various directions and landing in food and drinks. The fifth years were fighting the most, of course, they all knew that it was someone in their year that was behind this. Squeals erupted from the younger students, but most people (especially the teachers) looked wholly unimpressed.

 _It didn't last long, of course, Slughorn scared the crap out of us all eventually._

"Enough. All fifth years report to the Study Hall. Now."

The Great Hall was suddenly silent again as the fifth years dragged their feet, leaving in groups. Remus and Peter fell into step behind the other two marauders.

"Do you think that, maybe, we messed up?" Remus muttered.

"Nah," James smirked.

 _He was an idiot._

Remus huffed at his friend, clearly in disagreement, and James grinned as he ruffled his hair. This was the Marauders sixth prank of the month; they had certainly upped their game. Slytherins were the main target, but they often found themselves acquiring a large circle of victims.

They groups of fifth years steered clear of each other as they climbed to the first floor where the study hall was located. The groups were quiet but there was the hum of whispering buzzing above them.

 _We were herded into the Study Hall by Professor Slughorn and Professor McGonagall. They were both looking serious and honestly I avoid all eye contact. This was going to be highly entertaining; the two Professors didn't really seem to understand one another and every time they had to work together was a disaster._

 _The room was definitely a Health and Safety issue once we had all squeezed in, sitting as far away from other people as was physically possible. Remus' boney knees were jammed into my back and Peter kept unknowingly nudging me everytime he shifted in his chair._

 _This better not last long._

There was no need for the two professors to attempt to quiet the students down; everyone seemed ready to hear what was about to happen.

"Never, in my years as a professor, have I seen such behavior. And from promising students, who are almost of age," Slughorn began, stepping forward to address the room. "I'll have parents owling me in the morning asking, "Did someone get cursed?"

"I ought to cancel your Post-OWL Ball," Slughorn added sharply.

 _Boo! You Horcrux!_

The room disagreed. Sharp gasps of breath and shouts of 'no' spread like wildfire around the room but the Head of Slytherin quickly spoke up.

"Now, I'm not going to do that," he said clearly, before adding quietly, "because we've already paid the band."

Peter snorted with laughter causing Remus to roll his eyes and mutter something along the lines of: "Merlin's balls."

"But don't think that I'm not taking these prankster's seriously," he warned. "I have first years scared to come into the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall is on the verge of a nervous breakdown!"

 _Behind him, Minnie's lips had pressed together and her eyes had narrowed instantly at the suggestion that she ever be anywhere close to a nervous breakdown. She had, after all, had us to deal with for five years and seemed to still be pretty sane.  
_  
"Now, what the students in this year need is a change in attitude and a lesson in respect," Professor Slughorn informed the fifth years, "and you're going to get it right now. I don't care how long it takes, I will keep you here all night."

"We can't keep them past ten, Horace," McGonagall reminded him quietly.

"I will keep you here until ten," he corrected.

 _It was hard not to admire Professor McGonagall sometimes. Good for you Min-Min; you go Min-Min._

"Now, what we're going to try and do is fix the way you all relate to each other. Okay?" No one said a word. "Student to student. So, who has a problem that they'd like to talk about?"

One of the Slytherin's, Adrian Selwyn, cleared his throat and stood up. The whole room focused on him instantly — none of them had expected anyone to volunteer.

"Yes?"

"Somebody pranked us last week and now everyone thinks I'm lying about hating pink because all my white clothes turned pink. But I can't help it if I actually like pink boxers and have a book of pressed flowers."

 _Now we know why his hair is so big — it's full of secrets._

"Right, I can't do this. Professor McGonagall. You're a successful, intelligent, caring, graceful woman," Slughorn said, sending a murmur around the room.

"I - what?"

"There has to be something you can say to these young students. Something to help them with their attitude and respect of others?" Slughorn asked.

He held his arm out towards the head of Gryffindor who was staring at him with a expression that could have killed thousands.

"It's not a matter of respect. I think these marauding pranksters are pretty pleased with themselves," Professor McGonagall said coldly. "They know full well what they are doing."

This time McGonagall cleared her throat and stepped forward — her eyes glancing around the room like she could smell out the culprits. She was the last person who wanted to do mental exercises with fifteen and sixteen year olds right now.

"Alright. Everybody close your eyes," she ordered. "I want you to raise your hand if you have ever had another pupil do something bad to you just because they could?"

 _I noticed through one crack open eye, that after a few seconds, everyone in the room slowly put their hand into the air._

"Open your eyes."

The shock of the students was evident and even the Marauders all looked at one another in surprise. The volume of mumbles rose for a moment before Professor McGonagall spoke again — instantly silencing the whole room once more.

"Now, close your eyes again. And this time, I want you to raise your hand if you have ever done something bad to another pupil just because you can."

 _Professor McGonagall had us open our eyes to a room full of raised hands again. She claimed that we needed to express our supposed anger and stress in a healthy way (thus avoiding the pranks). Beginning at one end of the hall, she had use confronting one another about our issues. It was going pretty smoothly until James stuck his hand up into the air. Typical._

"Can I just say Professor, that we don't have a problem at this school. And some of us shouldn't have to do this exercise, because some of us are just victims in this situation."

 _I nearly choked._

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "That's probably true. How many of you have ever felt personally victimized by James Potter?"

An alarming amount of hands shot into the air. James turned a vibrant shade of pink as his friends shook with laughter at both his embarrassment and the idea that McGonagall had just showed him who was in charge.

"Good. Alright, who's next?" the professor continued, "Mr Black, do you have anything you would like to own up to?

 _Yes._

No.

"You never _pranked_ anybody? Done something unappreciated?"

 _Just that whole thing that just happened in the Great Hall.  
_  
Sirius Black coughed and then looked away, "No, not recently, Professor."

"Nothing you want to apologise for?" McGonagall pressed.

 _I couldn't apologise to anyone without getting blamed for everything._

"No, Professor."

The look on her face clearly showed the four boys that she knew, and that the only reason she hadn't hauled them into detention was because she couldn't prove it. Once she had moved on from questioned them, they all shared a look and decided it would be best to keep their heads down.

 _Professor McGonagall had us all write out apologies to people we could have hurt unintentionally in our lives, after she had grilled to whole room for their deepest darkest secrets._

'Marlene, I'm sorry I called you a dumb-blonde, and a banshee, before proceeding to ask for help with my Astronomy.'

'Peter, I'm sorry I laughed that time your skin turned blue after that potions lesson in our second year. And I'm sorry I told everyone about it. And I'm sorry for bringing it up again.'

'Josie, I don't hate you because you're fat; you're fat because I hate you.'

'I just wish we could all get along like we used to like we did during our first year. I wish that I could bake a cake made out of rainbows and smiles, and we'd all eat it and be happy.'

"He isn't even fifth year!" someone yelled.

Slughorn peered at the offending cake-baking speaker. "I say, are you even a fifth year?"

"No, professor. I just had a lot of feelings," the seventh year boy grinned.

"Mister Prewett, get back to the Great Hall," McGonagall scolded. "And please, take your brother with you, I can see him trying to hide over there."

Once the two red-headed twins had quickly scarpered, the remaining students continued with their confessions of guilt. The two Heads of House's stood to the side, talking quietly.

 _On Wednesdays, we should stop planning pranks in Study Hall._

Sirius turned to his three best friends, all of them waiting in the line of students yet to confess their sins.

"Temporary hiatus?" he suggested.

"I'll go on a permanent hiatus if we never have to do this again," Peter muttered.

And with those words they decided to lay low for a while. But that wasn't before they all stood and did their confessions.

They laughed until their sides ached all the way back up to the Gryffindor Common Room that night. With their confessions scrunched in their hands, they headed up to bed, all four scraps of paper ended up in the knocked-over bin of their messy dormitory — long to be forgotten.

* * *

James Potter is a messy, messy-haired nerd, who dribbles at night.

Peter Pettigrew made out with a liquorice wand.

Remus Lupin owns the ugliest _effing_ jumper anyone has ever seen.

Sirius Black is a _fugly_ man-slut.

* * *

 **Competition:** QLFC Round Six

 **Prompt** : The film Mean Girls must be used as inspiration for your story.

 **A/N:** Some quotes and words have been lifted from the movie directly. I own neither mean girls nor the works of J. .

 **Word Count:** 1763 (Not including A/Ns)


End file.
